


Let Me In Your Know

by alphadick



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, F/F, Hook-Up, Identity Reveal, M/M, One Shot, Phone Sex, Set Up, Wall Sex, reverse positions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphadick/pseuds/alphadick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Dixon keeps trying to set him up with her son, swears he's amazing and they'd get along so well. Rick's never been a fan of blind dates but doesn't really know how to say no to his boss. Not to mention, he's got this sorta on and off thing going with some guy he randomly hooked up with a bit ago. They tend to like sharing dick pics and hooking up more than a few times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me In Your Know

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from mickeyed posted on tumblr and they graciously allowed me to use it!
> 
> Here is the prompt in full:  
> my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick AU
> 
> Hope I did it justice! Really enjoyed writing this even though it was way way way late for Christmas. I’ve had half this story written for MONTHS and just got around to finishing it today. Lol that’s school getting in the way for you…  
> Anyway, comments and kudos are really appreciated. If you want to drop me a prompt you can leave it in the comments on this or send me a message over on tumblr: ahhale-werewolves.tumblr.com

His minds on the angular planes of his jaw and the way his thighs wrap snugly around his waist. They notch perfectly over his hipbones, sinking into his skin like that’s where they’re meant to be. His mind is certainly not on the older woman in front of him, rehashing a conversation they seem to have nearly every week. “—and that’s where his bar is, I did tell you he owns his own bar right?” He snaps out of it when he sees her gaze fixed solely on him, blue eyes snapping icily when she realizes his mind is light-years from here…or more specifically about four blocks away in his high rise between the sheets, warm breath still tickling his neck from his bed partner. 

“Yes, yeah, uh…” Rick decides to quit while he’s ahead and chooses to stand there in silent plea for forgiveness. “Sorry m’aam,” he finally chokes out.

She waves her hand dismissively, blonde hair flipping rather perfectly over her left shoulder, “regardless, he’s going to finally be at our company Christmas party this year so you better be there mister Grimes.” Rick nods resolutely, tension easing when he’s released without a further word.

Rick Grimes swears that if he were straight and twenty years older he’d be barking up Mrs. Dixon’s proverbial tree, but he isn’t. Ever since he started working here about two years ago she’s been trying to set him up with her son. She found out Rick was gay when they ran into each other at pride, a momentarily awkward moment until Rick decided to go with it and offered to buy her a drink. She confessed that she had come with her son to support him (and his bar as he later found out) and that’s when it all started.

Michonne’s looking incredibly sharp in a pencil skirt, blouse/blazer combo, and pumps sharp enough to eviscerate her enemy companies. A sight that doesn’t bode well for one Rick Grimes who would prefer to retreat to his desk like the dejected lovesick puppy he is. Okay…more like horny puppy. Ever since he fell into bed with a random stranger a month ago he hasn’t been able to get the man off his mind.

“She give you the spiel again?” Michonne coos over the side of his cubicle. Her red lipstick is so on point Rick is sure she’s going to slay anything and everyone in her way today, including him.

“Hell, I should just agree to go out on a date with the kid and get it over with, maybe she’d stop trying to play matchmaker like a second mom.” Rick’s eyes roll, just trying to imagine the spawn of his boss. He’s probably hot if the boss’s genes are anything to go by, but Rick’s never put much stock in blind dates. The three, count them THREE, he’s been on had all been worse than the last.

“Giv’em the ‘ole Rick charm, get your end off and then leave before it gets weird.” She suggests, winking seductively enough that Rick has the decency to blush.

“Yeah because seducing the boss’s son and then fucking him and ditching will go over so well.” The sarcasm is evident.

“Fine, I’m just trying to help sourpuss, now I’m off to rake in the big bucks, don’t wait up pumpkin,” she struts off, waving over her shoulder in lieu of looking back. He shakes his head lightly, chuckling to himself as he thinks of the poor bastards that have to go up against her shrewd hackling.

Rick tries to busy himself at his desk, answering emails from concerned coworkers about a problem in the server. His fingers stutter and halt over the keyboard when his phone buzzes once. He jerks to action, hand snatching the object greedily from the desktop. Fuck, not a text from the mysterious stranger, just Michonne telling him that the gang’s going out to dinner tonight and that he better be there or she’ll beat him up.

Him and mystery man exchanged numbers rather rashly in the morning. The southern boy had rolled over at the first streaks of dawn lighting the night sky and sucked Rick’s dick down to the root. A few hours later they’d been hopping around the apartment through rushed showers and even quicker coffee while they both tried to make it to their jobs.

It hadn’t really meant anything at the time, just a contact incase they wanted to repeat what had conspired that night. Damn Rick for suddenly developing strings when it was specifically supposed to be a no strings attached sorta deal. He grunts angrily, tossing his phone off to the side and throwing himself back into work in hopes of distracting his easily distracted mind.

||

And maybe going out to dinner with the gang turns into drinks at the bar and Rick’s rather stupidly drunk because he’s got the day off tomorrow and fuck today. Fuck all of it, fuck Mrs. Dixon trying to hook him up with her son, fuck Michonne for knowing exactly how to push his buttons, and fuck that fucking one nightstand. He doesn’t even realize he’s done it until Rick feels his phone vibrate in response. When he unlocks it with the touch of his thumb the first screen that comes up is an open text message thread with the very man that has been plaguing Rick’s thoughts.

It takes a second for his eyes to focus but when they do he re-reads the last text message on the thread, sent by himself:

_Lemme see ur dick gan._

Except there’s nothing under it, no response, no other text messages waiting to be read so where had that buzz come from? Rick pulls down the top notifications tab and sees a snapchat waiting from rednekboi69 and Rick’s nearly salivating before he can even click into the app. God he hopes it’s what he thinks it is, _please please please please_.

Rick’s hunkered down over his phone, shoulders bracketing his head like a shield. His friends are too busy shoving each other and people watching to bother him during this one moment of silence on his end. His thumb quivers in anticipation, loving that feeling of lust that shoots straight to his dick as he finally presses and holds the picture. It springs onto the screen, a grainy, half shadowed snap of his hookup’s dick curving out from the open front of worn denim jeans. His hand’s slightly in the picture, bunching up the flannel shirt on his chest so that his lower abs and dick are clear in the picture. It brings Rick back to their encounter nearly a month ago, his own dick thickening in his pants. The caption teasingly reads: 

_finally want some more huh? ;)_

Sideways fucking winky face. Jesus, Rick doesn’t even have the time to remember to breath before the snap is gone, lost in the ether of the internet. He doesn’t even tell anyone where he’s going, just gets up and pushes his way through the crowd of the bar to get through to the bathroom. There’s only a few guys milling around the urinals but the two stalls are open and Rick locks himself in the furthest one. His back presses against the wall, breath leaving him in a woosh of arousal.

It takes seconds to get his pants undone and cock bared, cool air only causing him to harden further. His hand’s on his dick, stroking a few times in teasing motions before the hand with his phone raises and holds the red center button allowing the video to start recording. 

The tip of his dick is flushed red, pointing up towards the camera, the head disappearing through the hole made with his fist. Rick groans lowly huffing out a sigh as the glands under the head catch on the ring of his fist. When the snap exceeds the limit Rick types a short message and sends it back to the man with a low moan.

 _lookit what u did_ , Rick sent as the caption, hoping the redneck would get the hint and invite him over, or at the very least send him something else juicy. He keeps stroking his dick, stoking the fire in the pit of his stomach. He keeps stroking, moans slightly drowned out by the thump of music and laughter spilling in through the wooden door.

Rick’s phone buzzes in his hand, and he scrambles to slide the bar to answer, raising the speaker to his ear with shaky hands. “Hey, _sweetheart_ looks like yah got a problem,” that southern voice drawls cool as a cucumber, “reckon’ I can help you with that.”

“How you figure that? Don’t see yah anywhere near my dick,” Rick sasses, fingers catching on his sensitive head and causing his voice to hitch. He hears an answering huff on the other end, the telltale clinking of a belt buckle being shoved to the side and a zipper going down. Good, he’s having the same effect as Rick. 

“Thought we could solve this problem together,” he grunts, voice growing huskier by the second and Rick can’t get enough of it. “I’d offer yah to come over but let’s just say I’m takin’ my 5 minute paid break." 

“The phone’ll have to do,” Rick huffs in response, letting his disappointment become apparent. He’d love to be balls deep in the man’s sweet ass right about now.

“Don’tcha worry _sweetheart_ , I’ll make it worth yer while,” he whispers, barely audible over the clamor of the bar but Rick hears him nonetheless. “Stoke that sweet dick baby, I’m jerkin’ off to the sounds of yer moanin’. Make me cum baby.” His voice is so comforting over the phone, grainy and distorted though it is, it’s still getting Rick off.

“Imma cum, imma—oh shit—jesusfuck—ha,” Rick huffs, hand sliding over his dick inelegantly, pace completely ruined as he feels himself cresting. Fuck the people trailing in and out of the bar bathroom, fuck everything except the sound of the man on the other end of the line coaxing him to completion. Pearly strings spurted from the head of his dick, caught partially in his palm and partially by the floor. “Shit, not quite as good as your pretty boy mouth,” Rick taunts, voice husky with post-climax arousal.

“Keep sayin’ shit like that and I’ll come find yah somethin’ to shut your mouth with,” the voice responds teasingly, tone strained as he nears his own end. It comes seconds later, by way of gasping breaths and a stuttering pant that has Rick flashing back to their one night stand and watching the way his body shook with the effort of the orgasm and his face screwed up in pleasure. His hands had clutched at Rick’s shoulders, slipping against slick skin and quaking against the hollows of his ribs. Rick feels an ache to touch him again, to have their bodies pressed together throughout the night.

Someone’s pounding on the stall door, screaming something about this not being a sex club but Rick’s focusing on the out of breath laugh on the other end of the line. “Seems like you’re a little busy, catch yah later city boy,” he laughs, clicking end call within the next second or so. Rick only has a moment to be angry that he forgot yet again to ask for the man’s name before reality outside of the stall is crashing back in. The banging has yet to cease; making him realize his semi-soft dick is still hanging out of his pants. Rick quickly zips up and flings the door open until he’s face to face with a bubble-gum popping male.

“Last time I checked this wasn’t the back room of some club, get your ass out of here and stop taking up a stall, you’re making the customers horny.” He turns with a pop of his gum and struts out to take his place back behind the busy bar. It’s a wonder Rick even makes it back to his seat with the daggers the bar staff are glaring at him.

“Hey Rick-y, where’d you go? You missed some guy complaining about a dude whacking it in the men’s room!”

He doesn’t even have the decency to flush red, he’s too sated with latent lust to be anything but happy with the turn of events.

|| 

In retrospect they should really have exchanged names by now, but Rick’s usually too preoccupied with getting each other off to worry about names. Doesn’t seem like the redneck really minds if the way he moans is anything to go by.

“Rick dear, what are you bringing to the Christmas party, a fabulous bottle of wine I hope,” Mrs. Dixon startles him from behind one early morning at the office.

“Mrs. Dixon, I’m hopeless around wine, I think a seven dollar bottle is a vintage experience.” It’s true; Andrea had chewed him out one birthday for showing up with a box brand of wine. To be fair, it fit better in the fridge…

She tut-tuts him like a scolding mother and affectionately ruffles his hair like he’s her son. “Maybe I should take you shopping, you’re probably planning on wearing jeans to the Christmas party aren’t you?” And he feels himself nodding without really thinking about it, but Mrs. Dixon had already guessed it and is moving on, “clear your lunch schedule, you’re coming with me.”

Rick doesn’t dare ask if he has a choice, she’d probably flick him in the ear if he asked. Then he’d really feel like a scolded child.

|| 

“Mrs. Dixon I find this really unnecessary, the first one was perfectly fine I—“

“Oh Rick, this is definitely the one, that gray looks fabulous on you, and that royal blue tie brings out your eyes, marvelous.” She pivots away from Rick who’s staring at her open mouthed and frozen, “we’ll take that one, can you have it tailored to fit him by Thursday?” He zones out as the attendant comes over and starts pinning the suit to the perfect fit, Rick’s too afraid to even look at the price tag. He’d made the mistake of glancing at one on the sales rack and had nearly felt his eyes roll out of his head in astonishment.

He’d tried on five different suits of various gray scale and more ties than any man could ever own or ever need to own, but Rick has to admit that he does look pretty damn good in the charcoal suit and blue tie. Maybe after the Christmas party he can convince redneck boy to come over with a few well-shot snaps of him in his suit.

“You look so handsome,” Mrs. Dixon states, coming back to stand in front of him like a proud mother. Feels nice to have that again, his own mom died of breast cancer five years ago, can almost see her standing in front of him instead of Mrs. Dixon, fixing the lapels of his suit jacket and straightening his tie. “Be a good boy and just bring a twenty-four pack of your favorite micro-brewed beer to the party, you can share it with my son, lord knows he loves that organic shit.”

Rick rolls his eyes succinctly, Mrs. Dixon reminding him more and more of his own mother.

||

 _U want a dick pic or no?_ Rick’s not afraid to admit he’s thirsty. Hell, the redneck’s done things to him that makes him crave him. 

The redneck just texts back a thumbs up emoji, making Rick smirk from where he’s sprawled across his couch.

Decides that a dick pic isn’t really going to cut it this time, and strips out of his clothing. He’s got two lubed fingers stretching himself liberally when the first text comes: _you wimp out mr. friendly?_

Three fingers and another: (a series of snake emojis that has Rick bursting into laughter even around the three fingers rubbing against his prostate) _where’s your one-eyed trouser snake?_

Rick reaches around and snaps a haphazard shot of the state he’s in, knees spread wide on the couch, dick curving towards his belly button, and three fingers stuck as far in his opening as he can get them. But it’s not enough.

 _Holy shit._ The redneck texts back, not forgetting to add a snake emoji after the short statement. Before Rick can even reply there’s another text coming right after, _can I come over?_

Fuck if Rick is going to say no. _you still remember how to get here babe?_ Rick hurriedly texts back, fingers flying over the screen to cut down on the time between him and his redneck hooking up. Fuck, now he’s thinking of him as _his_ redneck.

Rick doesn’t get to dwell on that long because his redneck is texting back in the affirmative and hopping in the car in the next second.  Should hopefully only take a few minutes if anything, Rick doesn’t know if he can wait longer than that. He strokes his erection a few times, enjoying the feel of his rough hand on the velvety flesh. The man wishes it were someone else’s hands on him, and closes his eyes and pretends the redneck is before him.

It feels like mere moments before there’s a hurried knock on the door and Rick springs up to answer it. In retrospect, it could have been anyone on the other side. Sweet Mrs. McCreary checking up on him like she tends to do, and giving him free food, or Hershel the good ‘ole veterinarian who likes to talk and watch the football games with him. Thankfully, it’s only his flushed looking hookup, eyes bugging when he sees Rick standing in the doorway with nothing on and more aroused than he should be.

“Fuck,” is all the redneck says, eyes trailing seductively over Rick’s body before crowding him into the room and slamming the door. “You usually answer the door naked mr. friendly?” He jokes, hands molding over Rick’s ribcage, down his back and over his ass. Rick moans, pulling them back towards the couch and down. The warm weight of a body overtop of him feels right, Rick grinds against him, against his clothed body and feels tortured by the barrier between them. 

“Com’on,” Rick whines, body thrusting rather frantically against the other man.

“Slow down babe, I gotcha I’m gonna take care of yah.” He growls, manhandling his own shirt off and undoing the zipper on his jeans. “You ready for me or yah need more prep?” Rick just grunts and throws the lube in his direction. He wraps his thighs around the man and pulls him closer, urging him on nonverbally. The redneck seems to take the hint, huffing out a chuckle as he strokes his dick to full hardness. He pulls a condom from his jeans pocket and slides the thing on. The lube is slick over his dick and shines as he pumps himself slowly. Finally, _finally_ , Rick feels the man push into him smoothly. He slides in easily with only a little resistance and Rick feels his hips notch against Rick’s ass. They fit together perfectly, but Rick’s more concerned with getting the man moving and getting them both off.

There’s something kind of erotic about the redneck still wearing jeans and his boots as he pounds into him. Like he was too rushed to get completely naked to be with him. It’s hot.

He’s thrusting rather forcefully into him, pegging his prostate in such a way that Rick’s keening and arching off the couch. The redneck slots their mouths together, catching the sounds like he wants to keep them and swallow them whole. Rick can’t help reaching down to stroke his erection, the sweet bliss of pleasure multiplied as his redneck strikes that spot inside him again.

“Jesus Christ!” Rick nearly howls, body bowing as he shivers in an overload of pleasure. His redneck smirks, choosing to bite a line down Rick’s neck to his collarbone. It feels amazing having the man inside him, thrusting as he tries to get them both off. Sweat slicks their bodies and makes the glide against each other that much easier, when the redneck’s nipples drag against his own Rick whimpers unintelligibly. It’s just at the point of too much, Rick’s cresting on that wave as he growls and releases his load against their stomachs. He feels his body clench tight, body shivering with pleasure and his redneck continues to thrust into him. He’s mumbling something against Rick’s neck, his rhythm gone as he thrusts wantonly into Rick’s entrance and then he’s done. He can feel the heat in his ass from his redneck’s release into the condom and it only serves to turn him on further.

They sprawl against the couch, the redneck mouthing at Rick’s skin as their heart rates settle once more. The redneck starts humming some Christmas tune and the vibrations feel good against Rick’s skin. “Yah enjoy yer xmas present?” The redneck jokes, nuzzling against Rick’s neck to conceal his smirk.

Rick huffs out a laugh, “asshole.” But neither of them get up for a while.

||

“Rick-y, Chonnie and I will be there in thirty minutes to pick you up, your ass better be ready!” Andrea singsongs over the phone while he can hear Michonne whistling Christmas tunes in the background. He’s struggling with his tie as he juggles the cell phone against his ear and shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, I hear yah.” Rick’s wearing the ridiculously expensive suit that Mrs. Dixon got for him, because hell if he’s going to go against the woman. She can be downright scary when disobeyed. That’s also why there’s a 24 pack of his favorite beer waiting next to the door. Whether this ‘blind date’ will work out or not, Rick’s definitely not going to piss the woman off. He’d prefer for her son to lose interest without offending his boss in the process.

“You nervous?” Andrea says after a second, Michonne obviously having dished on the situation his boss is putting him in.

“Of what? Meetin’ some kid? Nah, not really, more nervous I’m gonna fuck it up with the big boss.” Rick admits, swallowing nervously as he thinks about what it could mean if things go down wrong with the son.

“She adores you, she’s not gonna kick you to the curb if her son doesn’t like you. She’s just trying, like a good momma. She just wants to see her son happy and she thinks you’re a catch!” Michonne chimes in and Rick realizes he must be on speakerphone with the girls.

“I guess I should be flattered she thinks so highly of me,” Rick mumbles, really only feeling sick to his stomach at the night to come.

“Damn straight, stop freaking out Rick-y, Andrea and I will make sure to rescue you if you start drowning.”

“That’s even more terrifying,” Rick shudders at the thought of his friends butting in to save him. They are masters at embarrassing him and this would probably be no exception.

“Ouch, Rick Grimes, that hurts,” but Michonne is laughing so he knows she doesn’t mean it. “Anyway, get your ass in gear, we’re leaving to come get you now.”

He sighs heavily, “okay see yah soon.” The call disconnects and Rick’s left to finish getting ready. His tie officially wrangled into place; he slips on his dress shoes and sits down to wait. Rick can’t really help himself, he texts his redneck, hoping that their light hearted banter will calm him down a bit. Regardless of how the night goes at least he’ll still have his redneck.

_Whatcha doin? Merry xmas eve._

His redneck doesn’t respond right away, but Rick doesn’t expect him to. They’ve been doing this no strings attached thing pretty well for the month and it works well for them. Hell they’re so detached that Rick doesn’t even know the man’s name. Not for want of trying, it just seems to slip his mind every time they’re together because usually hotter, sexier things are happening.

_Heya mr. friendly, merry xmas eve to you too. About to head to a Christmas party my mom’s throwing, you?_

He sends a pic of himself dressed in a fitted black suit and Rick suddenly wants to just ditch the whole thing and spend his Christmas eve getting everything he’s ever wanted from this man.

_Work Christmas party :P_

Rick also sends a snap of himself in his suit and the redneck sends back what Rick assumes is an imitation of a catcall whistle.

_Lookin’ hot pretty boy. Everyone’s gonna want a piece of you._

Rick smiles lightly, because he’s stupid and he’s fucking falling for this guy when he’s sure it’s nothing but a hookup. He doesn’t want other people hitting on him; he just wants his redneck because they fucking fit together like nothing Rick has had ever before.

_Ah, I’m not too good with getting’ hit on._

If Rick’s completely honest he is awkward as fuck when in the dating pool. That’s only one reason he’s single. He always says the wrong thing or laughs at the wrong time. There’s too much to think about when dating. Hookups are so much easier because talking just comes naturally and there’s never too much of it. Usually there’s a lot more dick sucking and fucking that keeps Rick from putting a foot in his mouth.

_Yah did pretty good with me._

Michonne pounds on the door like she usually does and Rick is distracted from answering the text message. “I’m commin, I’m commin, jeez hold yer horses!” Rick calls as he jogs to the door and swings it open for the woman. She looks gorgeous in her long gold dress. It has a gorgeous pattern on it in black and it shimmers in the light as she moves. “Shit, Chonnie you look gorgeous,” Rick blanches for a second, letting her twirl and pose for him as she blushes lightly.

“Don’t look so bad yourself cowboy, now com’on, we’re gonna be late if we keep hanging around here.” She gestures out the door so he grabs the case of beer and locks up behind himself. 

Andrea looks gorgeous as well, dressed in a royal blue dress that hugs her curves in just the right ways. Her blonde hair looks like a waterfall down her back in its beautiful rivulets of curls. “Hey buttface, stop staring and get in the car so we can get our drink on!” He chuckles and hops in. Being around good friends actually manages to loosen Rick’s nerves and when they show up he has almost forgotten that this isn’t just a company Christmas party.

Mrs. Dixon catches his eye the minute he steps out of the elevator, as if she was specifically waiting for him to arrive. Which, to be honest, she probably was. She beelines for him, smiling brilliantly when she sees the beer in his hand and the suit he has on. “You look so handsome Rick.”

“Thank you Mrs. Dixon, you look very beautiful,” he compliments back, meaning every word as her blonde hair offsets the bright crimson red dress she has on.

“Oh, you got my son’s favorite beer,” she winks and Rick has the decency to blush because this had been purely by accident. It’s honestly his favorite beer also. “Don’t worry Rick, you guys will get along great I’m sure. I even got him to clean up a bit for tonight. He tends to like his t-shirts and jeans to wear at the bar.” She rolls her eyes like the idea of a t-shirt seriously offends her and Rick can kind of believe it. She’s usually very put together so any sort of comfort clothing must be offensive to her. He’s about to respond but she’s raising her hand in greeting, “oh, Daryl sweetie, over here!” Rick looks in that direction, eyebrows rising in surprise when he sees the man sauntering across the room with a beer bottle gripped in his hand. He looks rather amused when he stops before them, winking at Rick when his mother looks away for a second. “Daryl hon, this is the guy I’ve been telling you about. Rick Grimes, this is my son Daryl Dixon.” They turn to each other, Daryl’s look more mischievous as he outstretches a hand to shake.

“Nice to meet yah Rick, officially that is…I’ve heard so much about you,” Daryl’s quick to cover with the last bit. Not wanting to let his mother on to the fact that they’ve already met.

“Nice to meet you too, Daryl,” because Rick just has to say it, has to say his name because he wants to know what it feels like on his tongue. The redneck’s eyebrow arches but he doesn’t say anything.

Mrs. Dixon looks positively peachy looking at the two of them, “I’ll leave you boys alone, Daryl he’s got your favorite beer.” With that she wanders off to speak to some other coworkers and the two of them are left staring at each other.

“What are the chances?” Rick huffs out with a laugh, pulling out a beer because he certainly needs to crack a drink after this revelation. “This shit only happens in movies.” 

Daryl laughs and cheers beer bottles with him before taking a long swallow. “Yeah, I’mean my momma would freak if she knew the whole time she was tryin’ to set us up we’ve been fuckin’ like rabbits.” Rick nearly chokes on his beer, which causes the redneck to laugh and clap him on the back. He steers them towards a table off to the side and they sit down, surveying the room for a few quiet moments. The DJ is playing the top Christmas hits and a few people are dancing together out in the middle of the room. Rick can see Michonne and Andrea not so secretly spying on him from the buffet table but he lets it go. 

“It’s nice ta’know yer name finally,” Rick replies softly, a little afraid to admit something that he feels is so telling. Knowing names can mean something more permanent than the on and off thing they’ve been doing.

“Tell me about it, kept referrin’ to yah as pretty boy in my head or mr. friendly.” He looks at Rick with a grin and the man feels a little gooey in the stomach. 

They hit it off surprisingly well and Rick manages to not stick his foot in his mouth. Maybe already fucking his blind date helps to take a lot of the nervousness out of it. Daryl tells him stories about his childhood and how his brother Merle took off with some guy named Glenn after swearing up and down he wasn’t some ‘faggot’ and giving Daryl hell for years. Rick wonders why he wasn’t madder that he got crap for so long just because his brother couldn’t come to terms with himself, but Daryl says it’s better this way, knowing that he probably realizes how shitty he was. Besides, Daryl has met Glenn, and the kid really has his head straight. Merle acts like a fuckin’ puppy when Glenn’s around.

It’s easy together, they work their way through the beer and dinner, talking about hilarious stories from their past. Rick recounts when he was teenager and him as his best friend Shane wanted to do a senior prank in high school and decided to break into the school at night and grease the floor. He tells how hilarious it was to watch everyone slip and slide around trying to get to class.

Everyone pretty much just leaves them alone and Rick’s fine with that. He’s learning stuff about Daryl that he’d only hoped he would learn about the man. Makes it feel like there’s going to be something after all this whether it be friendship or just a continuation of the sex.

When the beer’s done Daryl’s shifted around the small table until he’s right next to Rick and smirks lowly. He’s got his hand on Rick’s upper thigh within the next moment and suddenly the room is much stuffier than before. “I was plannin’ on hitting this thing and then ditchin’, just here to make my momma happy, but then I was gonna try and entice you to come over after.” The hand starts massaging into his thigh; making blood flow to place Rick really doesn’t want it to go at the moment. “Didn’t think you’d be my momma’s ‘blind date’ she wanted me ta’go on so bad. Can’t say I’m upset about it.” The massaging is getting higher, palm twitching over Rick’s clothed dick. 

“Yah really want me to pop a boner in front of your mom?” Rick huffs, clenching his fist around his beer in the hopes that he won’t grab Daryl and pull him in for a very inappropriate make out session.

“Not necessarily in front of her, but I’m pretty game for yah to pop one for me.” They have a good laugh about it and Rick pulls them up and leads them from the room. Instead of leaving the party because one, Rick has no ride, he leads them to his cubicle down one floor. Their building has a large event space on top that gets rented out for more income, but during the holidays Mrs. Dixon takes it for the employees and has her parties. Down one floor the music is muted and they’re alone. His cubicle is off the side and overlooks the city in all its glory. Daryl looks amazing silhouetted against the lights from the city, his back to Rick as he looks out over the space. Rick comes up behind him and mouths against the man’s neck.

“You gonna do somethin’ about this? Considerin’ you made it an all,” Rick grinds against Daryl’s ass, smirking when the man huffs out a husky breath. He reaches around to Daryl’s front and massages over the growing bulge in the man’s pants, pleased to find him already so aroused.

“Yah usually fuck people on yer desk?” Daryl questions, eyebrow quirking when he turns to face Rick.

“Nah, I told yah, I’m not very good with flirtin’ with people.” They brush lips, mouths meeting in the middle and slotting together perfectly. Daryl lets out something that sounds like a laugh, probably disagreeing with Rick’s proclaimed intimacy issues when dating.

“F-fine, fuck me on yer desk mr. friendly.” Daryl moans as he steps backwards and strips his clothing. They only really untuck their shirts and undo their pants. Rick is still conscious that they’re in his office building, where literally anyone could walk in on them. Daryl spreads himself across his desk, chest brushing the cool top of the laminate. Rick’s a little thankful that he was planning on trying to get laid later this night by his redneck so he planned ahead and brought a few packets of lube and some condoms. Daryl merely winks over his shoulder, hands coming back to spread his ass wide as in invitation for Rick. He takes it, sinking to his knees and mouthing over the man’s ass. He leaves love bites in his wake, sucking hickies into the skin so that Daryl will remember him until the bruises fade. Rick reaches his entrance and licks a strip from his balls upwards, delighted when Daryl starts to come apart underneath him. His asshole spasms, clearly wanting to be filled and Rick’s here to fulfill. The man stiffens his tongue and thrusts against his entrance, pleased to find him to soft and pliable.

“Yah play with yerself in the shower?” Rick huffs around his work, licking over the pliant flesh and diving back in to spear his tongue inside him.

“Maybe a little, love ta’think about yeh when I’m jerkin’ off. Gets me all hot-t…” Daryl moans loudly, trying to muffle his sounds in the sleeve of his jacket. Rick groans against his skin, reaching down to pinch at his dick in the hopes it’ll stave off his imminent explosion. The idea of Daryl Fuckin’ Dixon fingering himself in the shower and jerking off to thoughts of him is nearly too much. It’s a little rewarding to know that the man is feeling the same way as him and enjoying their time together.

Rick lubes up some of his fingers and adds them in one at a time next to his tongue; he thrusts in roughly loving the way Daryl writhes when he hits that bundle of nerves inside him. He’s coming apart underneath him, and Rick is so pleased to be the one milking sweat curses and huffed moans from the man he’s come to care about without really meaning to. 

“N-now Rick!” Daryl barks, fingers pulling his ass cheeks further apart and urging the man on by moving his feet farther away from each other. Rick hops up, pulling his dick further out and sliding the condom on. He lubes himself up quickly, mostly because he knows if he keeps stroking and looking at Daryl’s bare ass he’s going to bust a nut here and now.

He pushes in slowly, taking his time to feel Daryl’s muscles clenching around him pleasantly. It’s the sweetest slide inside, warm tight heat clenching him like a vice and Rick takes a second to enjoy it when he’s seated flush against Daryl’s ass. He thrust experimentally, belly fluttering when Daryl pushes back to meet him with a breathy moan. They pick up a hard pace, bodies meeting with a slap of skin each time and Rick reaches around to fist Daryl’s erection. He grabs Daryl’s shoulder to get a better hold and rams into him which sparks off a series of curses and Rick feels Daryl clench and shoot against the side of his desk. He keeps streaming cum and Rick wrings it out of him by pegging his prostate and getting driblets of the clear, milky fluid to spill over his hand in tiny rivulets.

Rick pauses and pulls out, a grunt the only sign that Daryl is over sensitized from his recent orgasm. He pulls the man up and against him, melding their mouths and sticking two fingers in Daryl’s entrance with a fascination that borders on the obsessive. The man moans loudly into his mouth at the feeling, he pushes up onto his toes, mind frazzled and whiting out with pleasure and his body is unsure of whether to get away or to sink into the feeling. Rick lifts him up, getting him to wrap his hips around his waist and half staggers over to the large window wall to lean them against. With the added help of the wall Rick is free to play with Daryl’s entrance, and fingers the bud teasingly.

Daryl takes the time to suck hickies into Rick’s neck above the line of his collar and bites a spot to let Rick know he needs to start fucking him again. He agrees, lining back up and thrusting in with one long stroke that has them both arching with the feeling. It’s intense the way Rick thrusts up with all his strength and simultaneously holds Daryl up against the wall. The man has his legs wrapped securely around his waist, hands scrabbling for purchase on Rick’s back. He finally grips a fistful of Rick’s dress shirt and with his other hand back on the window he starts thrusting himself down onto Rick’s dick with more force. Daryl’s dick looks like its valiantly trying to harden again, but with barely any recovery time it’s a lost effort. Instead, the overstimulation sends a few more spasms through Daryl’s body and spews a few more streams of cum from his dick. It smears against Rick’s expensive shirt but he can barely care one bit. If anything, it makes him hotter, makes him thrust harder.

“Oh jesus fuck Daryl, keep doing that, fuckfuckfuck,” Rick thrusts sloppily a few more times, the strokes being short jabs with their position but Daryl clenches on one up stroke and that’s all she wrote. He feels himself spill into the condom, Daryl’s tight heat just on the other side of too much but he revels in the feeling. He shakes with the intensity of it, realizing after a few moments that Daryl is peppering his face with kisses until his white-out experience stops and he’s back with reality. Rick slides them down onto the floor, Daryl moaning hotly as he’s seated a little deeper on Rick’s dick when they hit the ground.

“Yah wanna get outta here?” Daryl mumbles after a few minutes of them catching their breath. Rick’s dick feels wrung dry as it slips from the redneck’s ass as he softens. He disposes of the condom in his wastebasket and hopes that the janitorial staff won’t give him the side-eye.

“Where yah wanna go?” Rick asks, resting his forehead against Daryl’s shoulder. They’re leaning against the window, the cool glass feeling great through Daryl’s shirt. The redneck ruffles a hand through the hair on the back of his neck and it feels so nice.

“We could go to my bar and have a round?” Daryl offers, lifting Rick’s head with a nudge of his nose and mouthing across his cheek to his lips for a make out session. 

“Sounds good to me,” Rick mumbles against Daryl’s lips.

“Daryl sweetie are you down here? Because if you are you better not be naked with Rick and you definitely better not be in my office and I see a speck of jizz anywhere in this office I’m going to make sure you and Rick never see each other again,” Mrs. Dixon calls from across the office. The two men freeze, eyes widening slightly before hurriedly shuffling around to fix their clothing. A few seconds later and their clothing is righted and their standing with barely concealed laughter. Rick carefully wipes down the side of his desk where Daryl had spunked and tosses the tissue in the trash.

He buttons his jacket over the smear of cum on his lower abdomen and laughs when Daryl shoots him a look. “Com’on, let’s get outta here before momma drags us out by our ears.”

They take Daryl’s car down a few blocks to his bar and Rick can already feel himself blushing when they get out and he sees which bar it is. “This is your bar?” He questions, one hand clutching at the car door like it might absorb him if he keeps trying.

“Yah, why?” Daryl comes around the side, crowding Rick back against the side and kissing him into next week. It’s hard to think when there’s lips assailing your senses, so Rick loses his train of thought for a moment or two.

“Uh…oh, uh, well…y’know the one night we had phone sex and yah said you were takin’ your ‘five minute paid break’ well…I mighta been here jacking off in your bathroom…” Rick looks up through his lashes and certainly doesn’t expect Daryl to be shaking with laughter like he is.

“Explains why Johnny came up all pissed off about some guy in the men’s room.” Daryl gets out between fits of laughter. “Shit, I was upstairs that whole time. Coulda helped you out with more than just my voice,” Daryl whispers huskily and crowds the man back against his car.

“Why dontcha buy me a round and then make due on that promise.” 

“Deal,” Daryl grabs his face to kiss him hard a few more times and then drags him in through the side door to the bar.


End file.
